


Cross the Line

by Blaithin



Category: Avengers (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Adventures: Iron Man, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Infidelity, M/M, One Night Stands, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-19 02:33:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17592965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaithin/pseuds/Blaithin
Summary: Bucky usually avoided rich city boys, finding them almost universally unbearable. But Tony hadn’t looked particularly wealthy that night at Bucky’s favourite dive bar: nursing bottom shelf whiskey in a rumpled white shirt and water-logged shoes.  The rain had ruined whatever hairstyle Tony had been going for and dark curls had tumbled wildly around sharp cheekbones.Bucky had rarely seen a man so beautiful or so sad.(Or, the one where Tony and Bucky keep having one-night stands and Tony's evil ex makes an appearance.)





	Cross the Line

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Purple_ducky00](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purple_ducky00/gifts).



> purple_ducky00's requested: someone (idc who) cheats on Tony and he starts to doubt his self-worth. Luckily, there is someone (Bucky) who can convince him of the opposite. 
> 
> I apparently love torturing Tony and Tiberius Stone so this promised ficlet is now a swollen 2.5k fic! Oh well, it was fun! Thanks for the great prompt!

 

 

Bucky woke up naked.

With an 800-thread-count cotton sheet beneath him, it wasn’t an awful experience. The equally bare form curled up next him, soft and inviting, wasn’t bad either.

Bucky glanced down at the dark head pressed into his shoulder. Tony slept like the dead, slept as if he had never had a good night’s sleep in his life. The first time they had done this, Bucky had laid awake for ages, not wanting to jostle and disturb Tony's sleep. God knew the man needed every minute he could get.

“I’m going to get something to eat,” Bucky said softly, mouth brushing against dark hair.

“Mmhhh,” Tony mumbled, eyes still shut.

Gently unlatching the tan arm that had been thrown over him during the night, Bucky slid out from the bed. At the movement Tony made a disappointed noise, forehead crinkling unhappily, and rolled over, folding up tight into himself and disappearing into the dark sheets.

For a moment Bucky thought about getting back in bed and gathering the man to himself, of comforting him. But their relationship wasn’t like that. It was, as Tony had been quick to emphasise, a purely physical relationship. A one-night stand that had somehow become two, three, four nights in as many weeks. Bucky sometimes wanted more, hungered for more than brief nights together. But it didn’t matter, it wasn’t what Tony wanted and Bucky tried to be happy with what was offered.

Bucky padded into the apartment kitchen, still slightly overwhelmed by the displays of wealth around him. Bucky usually avoided rich city boys, finding them almost universally unbearable. But Tony hadn’t looked particularly wealthy that first night at Bucky’s favourite dive bar: nursing bottom shelf whiskey in a rumpled white shirt and water-logged shoes.  The rain had ruined whatever hairstyle Tony had been going for and dark curls had tumbled wildly around sharp cheekbones. His mouth had been swollen, cherry red and inviting against his pale, chilled skin. His eyes molten in his face.

Bucky had rarely seen a man so beautiful or so sad.

They ended up at Bucky’s apartment. Mostly, because Bucky’s apartment was across the road from the bar and Bucky had been ready to tear Tony’s clothes off in public if he had to wait much longer. In hindsight, he wondered what Tony thought about his roach-infested bedsit but Tony hadn’t said anything, seemingly content with the lumpy mattress and peeling wallpaper.

Tony kissed like he was preparing for a fight, fucked like he was trying to punish himself. Afterward, they fell asleep curled up together, Tony slotting perfectly into the circle of his arms, fingers skimming his metal arm with a strange, religious reverence. Bucky had mostly come to terms with the loss of his arm, accepted himself for what he had become but he knew the metal arm made people uncomfortable; that his bed partners found it uncomfortable to touch.

“No; it’s beautiful,” Tony mumbled, pulling the arm back when had Bucky tried to turn away. He was half asleep, eyelids closed. No one had ever called Bucky’s arm beautiful before.

Their one-night stand should have been exactly that. They certainly hadn’t exchanged numbers the next morning and yet somehow, they had run into each other again. Bucky had been filling in for Steve as a waiter at some charity event and Tony had been drinking vodka out of a flask in the disabled toilet.

“Well, this is fucking awkward,” Tony said, mouth twisting up into something that would have been a sneer if his pupils hadn’t been blown wide with panic, his hands shaking.

Bucky reached out and took the flash from Tony’s hands, taking one long, slow swig; Tony’s eyes locked onto his exposed throat, following the movement of his Adam’s apple. Bucky sighed and gave the flashback to Tony, “Tastes like hell, Darling.”

They fucked right there, Tony’s face pressed up into the grease smeared bathroom mirror and afterwards Tony took Bucky home and they made themselves similarly acquainted to the unused, polished oak dining room table. It was the next morning that Bucky realised Tony’s apartment was a Manhattan Penthouse. Tony had been passed out, impossible to wake no matter what Bucky did.

After a while, Bucky decided that if Tony was as rich as he seemed, then he wouldn’t notice if Bucky made himself breakfast before leaving.  Thus, had begun a strange routine where Bucky made himself breakfast and brought Tony coffee in bed and for an hour or two they existed in an unspoken, undefined bubble of familiar domesticity before Tony remembered this was a one night stand and asked Bucky to leave.

Bucky shook himself out of his thoughts and peered into the fridge. As always it was a pitiful sight, a half-drunk bottle of milk. A congealed tub of Chinese take-a-way and some eggs. There were a few wilting vegetables on the counter and Bucky took them and the eggs and sent a little prayer to whatever god was watching that this didn’t kill him.

For a moment Bucky considering eating his omelette by the sink as usual and then decided to take the food back to bed, balancing the plate and Tony’s oversized coffee mug as he opened the bedroom door with his foot. Tony cracked open an eyelid as Bucky slipped back into bed.

“Are you bringing crumbs into my bed? Tony asked sleepily, hands already reaching out eagerly for the coffee.

“Hopefully not. But you should help me eat it, to be sure.” Bucky held out a fork, hovering before Tony’s mouth.

Tony was low in the bed, mostly flat on his back, head tilted up to look at Bucky in a way that made his big, dark eyes even bigger. He hesitated, his expression uncertain. The type of expression that made Bucky think he wasn’t used to a lot of small gestures of kindness.

There were faint, fading clues scattered about the penthouse that Tony hadn’t been alone long. A worn toothbrush abandoned next to Tony’s. A too big coat gathering dust by the door. A forgotten post-it note left near the window with the message: ‘Tony, I’m going to be late. Don’t wait up.’ The decaying remains of a relationship.

Bucky didn’t mention it but when Tony looked like that – wary in the face of kindness, a dog beaten too many times – he wanted to find the owner of that coat and hurt them.

Tony opened his mouth gingerly and Bucky slipped the omelette into his mouth, laughing as Tony’s eyes lit up.

“I know, I’m the full package,” Bucky said and Tony smiled, eyes crinkling in happiness.

The moment was broken abruptly: a series of bangs echoing loudly, shattering their lazy morning.

Tony glanced at Bucky in disappointment and then slipped out of bed, throwing on an oversized t-shirt. Bucky stayed in bed, finishing the omelette, as Tony made his way across the apartment towards the front door. Whoever had decided to disturb Tony was still pounding away and had taken to shouting Tony’s name, unable to wait the few minutes it took Tony to answer.

“Ty!” Tony’s voice was shocked, high pitched and choked sounded. Bucky hadn’t heard Tony sound like that before and he looked up curiously, tilting his head so he had could see Tony and the unexpected guest.

The man at Tony’s door was tall, impeccably, richly dressed with slicked back blonde hair and a shark’s smile “Tony, you look tired.” He said in greeting, pressing forward into the apartment.

“Ty…. Tiberius…..”

“That is my name – sharp as always, Tony,” Tiberius replied. His voice was light, joking but there was something in the way Tony seemed to be shrinking, cowering in the face of his jokes that made Bucky’s hackles rise. Tiberius took another step forward. “Aren’t you going to ask how I am?”

Tony gaped. “Why are you here Ty?”

“What I can’t come to see my boyfriend?”

Bucky stopped breathing. He dropped the plate into the sheets, uncaring about the mess. For one second, Bucky almost believed: this was the reason Tony was so unwilling to discuss anything more serious, he already had something serious with someone else. Bucky leaned forward, trying to catch Tony’s face, to see the truth on his features. There was nothing.

“We are not together!” Tony snapped, his voice cracking. He was half tucked behind the front door, clutching it in front of him like a shield, his jaw twitching nervously.

 “Of course we are,” Tiberius levelled a cool stare down at Tony and pushed the door away, forcing it out of Tony’s hand and exposing him. Tony took a step back into the apartment and Tiberius followed easily, stalking him. Tiberius smiled, his voice honey smooth, soothing. “Look I know things have been hard for you lately. But we love each other, we can’t let something this small, ruin that – ”

“You cheated on me.”

The words were so quiet that Bucky wasn’t sure he heard them. Tiberius didn’t seem to because he continued talking without pause, surging forward with his proclamation of love and how things were meant to be. Tiberius reached out to Tony and Tony slapped the man away with a snarl.

“You cheated on me!” Tony repeated, his voice loud, broken. “I caught you, remember, in our bed with Sunset. She was meant to be my friend! You laughed when you saw me crying!”

Bucky had got to his feet, his hand clutching the doorknob. It groaned in protest, bent from the sudden hot rage that filled him. He told himself to stay where he was, that this was none of his business and Tony wouldn’t thank him for interfering.

The smiling expression slid off Tiberius’s face: a mask falling away to reveal the truth beneath. His features were hard; carved, emotionless marble. “Oh stop being so emotional, Tony. It’s embarrassing.” He said and moved past and around Tony, like a shark circling his prey. “I did you a favour, I showed you what Sunset was really like. You should be thanking me.”

“Fuck off.” Tony hissed, defiant. He had twisted around to keep Tiberius in his eyesight and ended up with his back to the wall, cornered. “Don’t try to pretend this was a gesture of altruism. You like just like playing with me.”

Tiberius grinned, his mouth wide and full of sharp white teeth. He lurched forward, pressing one hand near Tony’s head and looming over the dark man.

“Playing with you is so much fun, Anthony. It’s pretty much the only thing that is. You’re an embarrassment: your drinking, your insecurity. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that hickey on your neck, you cheap slut.”

Tony slapped a hand to neck, voiceless and cringing at the onslaught. Tiberius leant in close, his mouth almost touching Tony’s cringing face. “Your father was right about you, you’re a disappointment. Who else would ever want you?”

“I would.”

Tiberius turned just in time to see Bucky’s fist arching down towards his face.

The blow knocked the pale-haired man off his feet, sending him tumbling to the floor at Tony’s feet. Bucky reached out, taking Tony by the arm and pulling him away from his position against the wall, pushing him behind him protectively. He could feel the tremors running through the man, shockwaves running up and down his arms. It made Bucky want to punch Tiberius again.

Tiberius staggered upright, his mouth was faintly bloody, hair finally broken out of the uniform slicked by style. He turned his gaze onto Bucky and his eyes were the palest blue, iced shards set in his handsome, furious face.

“I know you,” Tiberius hissed, voice dangerously soft. “You were a waiter at the foundation gala. A poor one at that.” He laughed; his expression a twisted, grotesque parody of a smile. “Is this what you were doing that Night Tony? Slumming it with the help?”

Tony most definitely had been slumming it with Bucky that night, Bucky remembered it with a vaguely prideful fondness. He also remembered how he’s found Tony, hiding and drinking like a fish. If this is what he was running from, Bucky didn’t blame him.

“He’s not – “ Tony starting to say from behind Bucky, falling silent at the cruel, mocking look Tiberius levelled at him. A trained response.

“He’s not what? He’s probably stealing from you while you sleep. Why else do you think he’s here? You always were so careless. It’s lucky I’m here.”

“I don’t want you here!” Tony blurted, voice shrill. “I can’t stand to look at you!”

“Anthony, come on. Be reasonable,” Tiberius tried to step towards Tony. His expression turning murderous when Bucky stepped between him, his bulk hiding Tony from view.

“I think it’s time for you to leave,” Bucky told Tiberius shortly, unable to listen to any more of nasty rubbish coming out of the other’s man mouth. He wanted him away from Tony.

“I’m not taking orders from you!” Tiberius snarled. He looked at Tony, his voice dropping back to honeyed sweetness, ‘Anthony, please. Don’t throw our life away, what will people say about you?’

Tony was white-faced, blank at the plea. “I don’t care. I don’t care what they.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows vindicated and gestured to the front door, “You heard the man.”

“You’re an idiot!’ Tiberius snarled as he was pushed through the front door. “You’re going to end up alone. You’ll be begging me to take you back.”

Bucky slammed the door shut in his face. He stared at the heavy wood, breathing out a sigh of relief. He was going to go round Tony’s apartment and burn every sick reminder of that man.

“I’m sorry.” Tony’s voice was quiet, a barely-there whisper behind him.

Bucky blinking, turning to find Tony stood in the centre of the room. His arms wrapped tight around his middle, his chin tilted up, ready to take whatever Bucky unleased upon him. Bucky’s heart ached

“Tony.”

‘I didn’t mean to drag you into that. I didn’t know he was going to come here. I understand if you want to just leave now.”

Bucky stepped forward. It was easy, so easy to fold Tony into his arms, to wrap him up and hold him as he shuddered, fractured apart. Bucky pressed his mouth against's Tony's dark hair, kissing his head softly. “He’s an absolute jerk by the way.” He said.

Tony laughed, the noise strangled. He peered up, dark eyes slowly returning to life. “Everyone seems to love him. I’m pretty sure my father will disown me when he finds out I broke up him.”

“Well, then your father’s an idiot too. No one should ever speak to you like that.”

Tony winced. He took a step backward, hands nervously running through his hair. “He wasn’t completely wrong. I drink too much and I’m a workaholic, I forget birthdays and anniversaries. I’m boring – ”

“I have one arm, no career and a mouthy best friend who starts fights everywhere he goes. We all have shit. But he used your insecurities to manipulate, to make you feel bad. And you are the least boring person I’ve ever met.” Bucky could feel his teeth grinding in remembered anger.

A flicker of a smile appeared on Tony’s face and Bucky pressed on, bringing them closer once again.

“I meant what I said. I want you. I’ve wanted you since that first night in the bar. I want a proper relationship.”

Tony gaped, mouth open and eyes huge and disbelieving. Bucky could see the want, the hope in his face.

“Tell me you don’t want me too.” Bucky said, “We can carry on with this, I just needed you to know – .”

“No, I. I do want you,” Tony said like confessional, guilty and quiet. “But… I’m not any good at serious relationships.”

Bucky reached out, a hand fitting into the curve of Tony’s face, drawing him closer. “Me neither, maybe we can learn together.”

Tony kissed him tentatively, wanting.

It was a beginning.

 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I'm dyslexic, let me know if you spot any mistakes. 
> 
> You can join me on tumblr at: https://blaithinwrites.tumblr.com/


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